


Her Plan

by memesf0r0ne



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Beelzebub (mentioned), Fluff, Gen, Hell, M/M, Oops, Prayer, Religion, Religious speculations, Sort Of, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), guess who didn't sleep again, uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memesf0r0ne/pseuds/memesf0r0ne
Summary: ...AND SUCH IS THE INEFFABLE PLAN.The angel was awestruck. "But certainly You don't mean―"ARE YOU ONE TO QUESTION THE ALMIGHTY?





	Her Plan

"Lord, I know that you have a plan for everything. And I'm well aware that I needn't know the plan. But Lord, if Your creations were able to sway your decision, I pray that You'll grant me that ability as well. I have an...acquaintance. It's just about too late to save his soul, I believe. Then again, You're all-powerful. You know what's best. I simply want what's best for him. I...want him to know how much value he has, and the Fall, well, that certainly complicates things. Anyways, thanks for the day, and Your time. Amen."

Aziraphale took a deep breath, steadying himself, when all of a sudden a host appeared. Not Metatron ― something that possessed such a quality of... _ more _ .

YOUR PRAYER HAS BEEN HEARD, AZIRAPHALE. I BELIEVE YOU MEAN TO SAY YOU WISH SOMEONE WOULD SHOW HIM LOVE. YOU ARE CAPABLE OF THIS. AND SUCH IS THE INEFFABLE PLAN.

The angel was awestruck. "But certainly You don't mean―"

ARE YOU ONE TO QUESTION THE ALMIGHTY?

"Right away, Lord. Thank you."

GO ALONG, THEN.

Crowley was deep in his bottle. He had already emptied four before it; for some reason he felt especially un-evil today, and thought an overactive, inebriated imagination might help his wiles. And, perhaps, that wasn't his only reason.

A knock sounded on his door.

"Who'ssssszit?"

"Just me, my dear boy," came Aziraphale's bright voice.

"Come in, 's unlocked."

He stepped into the demon's flat. "You've really...indulged yourself," he noted, almost a sad tone in his voice. "Are you all right?"

"Mmfine," Crowley slurred.

"I'm...not so sure. What's going on?"

Crowley sunk deeper into his seat, and pulled his sunglasses off. "Hell."

"Hell?" Aziraphale parroted. "What ever do you mean?"

"I mean, Beelzebub's havin' mood swings like nobody's business, 'n smpn's definitely up. She's taking it all out on us."

Looking around for a chair, Aziraphale could find nothing. Crowley was sprawled over a throne-like chair. "My dear, when's the last time you slept?"

"Th'rr easier ways to get me inta bed, angel," Crowley smirked, though his eyes were growing slightly more yellow.

"Crowley, what's wrong? You're stressed out, quite clearly!"

"Mmmmmm, nothin's wrong. Just...wanna drink, I guess."

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and suddenly all the wine around Crowley disappeared.

The demon gasped. "No!"

"That's it. It's bedtime. Now. If I were you, I'd sober up so you don't get a hangover."

"Ghhg. Fine." Crowley groaned as the alcohol left his bloodstream. Seconds later, Aziraphale lifted him up and carried him to his long unused bed. He gently dropped Crowley onto it, before sitting next to his lying form and patting his leg affectionately.

"What kind of things are they doing to you?"

"Nothing. Not proud of my accomplishments either. An', there's this...I like them, and they just like me as a friend," Crowley said, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

"Oh. That sounds horrible," Aziraphale empathized.

"I can't― I'm gonna sober up all the way, now," said Crowley.

"I was wondering why it wasn't wearing off right away― how long have you been drinking?"

"Long time. Since the last time I saw you."

"Dear," Aziraphale began, "tell me more about your friend."

"Well, they're certainly a moron. Don't realize much. Absolutely intelligent though, very sweet and sympathetic. A downright, some might say―  _ angel _ ."

Aziraphale frowned. "You like  _ Gabriel _ ? You were only acquainted with him for like five minutes! Oh, please tell me you didn't flirt with him in my form, oh goodness."

"N-no. Did I mention oblivious?"

"Michael?"

"GOOD LORD, angel!" Crowley exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. "Who do you think it could be?"

"I―  _ me _ ?"

Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale's jacket without responding. His arms snaked around his friend's waist.

"Oh, Crowley!"

"Nnmghfu," mumbled the demon.

"I love you too, dear. Don't you think it's time for bed, now?"

"With you?"

"Come on now, Crowley."


End file.
